


Running In Place

by EvelineOrihara



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Depression, Espada Ichigo in the second chapter ahaha, Hurt/Comfort, I don't think it's too ooc but I mean y'all are picky lmao so who knows, Ichigo is really sad and Grimm just really wants to help him, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Pill Abuse, Post Final Getsuga Tensho, Post Winter War, Powerless, Songfic, Suicide Attempt, Trigger Warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-09 03:05:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvelineOrihara/pseuds/EvelineOrihara
Summary: When the finality of the disappearance of his Shinigami powers finally hits him, Ichigo falls into a deep depression, pushing everyone away and engaging in any self destructive behavior that'll numb pain he feels inside. But when he wakes up one day with his head on Grimmjow's lap, will he feel any better, or will his condition inevitably get worse?





	1. Hospital For Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shapooda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shapooda/gifts).



> Heyyooo,  
> I wrote this after torturing myself with episode 361 of Bleach and the whole Ichigo breakdown scene lol So this comes from a place of pretty deep despair. I broke it into 2 chapters because I figured that after I wrote the first part, I wanted to give it a nice conclusion. It's based on a drawing by @Shapooda on Twitter, so if you can, definitely check out her GrimmIchi art, it's top notch. Anyway... enjoy!
> 
> It's my first song fic so be gentle with me.  
> Song for Ch.1 is Hospital For Souls by Bring Me The Horizon.  
> Song for Ch. 2 is Eternally Yours by Motionless In White

_ And then I found out how hard it is to really change.   _

Two years of a life, a routine so ingrained into memory that going along with it had become not only habit but addiction. Two years of the same thing over and over again, living an existence filled with overflowing purpose, a routine of being needed and being the one to protect, only to be left as a shell once he wasn't needed anymore. That was the fate of the orange haired ex-substitute shinigami who now spent his days in silent solitude. Throwing away his powers and heading straight into the fray to protect others had been accepted with no hesitation in the heat of battle, but now as he had to accept a powerless existence where he could neither fight nor defend, he was beginning to wallow in self pity. As others moved on with their old lives, falling back into their very human and very drab routines, he found himself envious of their ability to assimilate back into normalcy, becoming ever more bitter and cynical day by day until he'd finally driven a wedge between himself and everyone he'd fought to protect. He'd never expected the change from one aspect of his life to the other would be so impossible.

_ Even Hell can get comfy once you've settled in.   _

Fighting and bleeding and coming oh so very close to the precipice and finality of death had become his normal, and now that his days were filled with calm and average teenage responsibility, he found himself more uncomfortable than he'd ever been when he was run through with a blade. In the day his mind was filled with what ifs, fantasies that kept his mind from sinking into the lingering absolute despair that threatened to finally break him, and at night he was plagued with nightmares, traumas from past battles finally catching up to his mortal psyche now that he'd had time to finally mull them over. It had become his own personal hell, an underworld of sorts that he lived in as he laid in bed day in and day out as he let his hopelessness consume him. 

_ I just wanted the lonely inside me to leave.   _

After the initial first few weeks of suffering in solitude, he'd begun to regret that decision as well. His fingers constantly ghosted over the numbered buttons of his cellphone wondering if any of his friends would even want to talk to him in his sorry state. He'd thought surely someone as kind as Orihime or as loyal as Uryuu would pick up the phone in his time of need, but even if the chance of them rejecting him was slim to none, he could never bring himself to willingly put himself into a situation where he could face such disappointment. A blow like that would truly be the catalyst to his defeat. He was mind-numbingly lonely, slowly starting to wish someone or something he could no longer see would finish him off. Flashes of electric blue hair would plague his memory and remind him of a time he truly felt alive, and he would smile, only to feel even worse than before. Had he always felt this cold?

_ No matter how fucked you get, it's always there when you come back down.   _

When a few months had passed, he'd found himself turning to whatever vices he could find to further numb the throbbing ache he felt inside. Alcohol had seemed to work the best at first, drowning him in a drunken daze and dulling the sorrow that had built a home in his heart, but even that had proven to be temporary. Soon he was taking pills, be it sleeping pills, anti depressants, or anti psychotics- he'd find a way to obtain them and swallow them without hesitation, wondering if he'd wake up the next morning, always finding himself disappointed when the harsh sun woke him inevitably. His body was barely running as it was; Deprived of sleep most nights, edging on an eating disorder, and practically dehydrated, it was a wonder that he hadn't accidentally overdosed. No matter how much time went by, or how many concerned talks he got from the likes of Karin or Yuzu, he couldn't find it in his heart to care anymore. No matter how fucked up he got, it wouldn't stop the despair from creeping back into bed with him and consuming him as he slept.

_ The funny thing is all I ever wanted I already had.   _

Days where he'd found himself consumed in his past he'd wonder why he'd taken it for granted. He had acted like his job as a shinigami was, at times, a drag, he'd acted stubbornly like he'd rather be doing anything else, but now that he had no choice but to do anything else, he had wanted nothing more than to go back to those days. He wanted to be caked in sweat and blood, locked in a struggle of life and death against some undead creature that acted like he wanted it more than the ginger had. He longed to hear the clink of metal on metal, wishing he could find himself beat within an inch of his life. He missed Zangetsu, he missed the Gotei 13, he missed the nagging hollow that lived in his head, hell, he even missed the blue haired espada that begged for a fight any chance he could get it. Everything he had, everything he'd take for granted, had been everything he'd ever wanted, and now that it was gone, he didn't want to exist without it.

_ There's glimpses of heaven in every day. _

_ In the friends I have, the music I make, the love that I feel.   _

He'd tried to look on the bright side, flicking on the TV to drown out the negative thoughts and suicidal ideation that had begun to plague his brain after month 7, but no matter how much he tried to find a show to distract him, he'd always find some aspect of the plot to remind him of the past. When that had unsurprisingly failed, he'd tried to find a niche of music to listen to, hoping relating to the sorrow others felt would breed empathy in him again and make him feel less empty, but the lyrics that led his favorite melodies only pushed him deeper into his mind, and instead of lessening his burden it seemed to weigh on him a hundred times heavier. Sometimes he'd even trick himself into feeling a familiar wave of reiatsu blowing through his open window, which would inevitably draw frustrated tears to the surface, making him hate himself as they fell down his burning cheeks. He'd never felt so disgusting and pathetic before.

_ I just had to start again.   _

After 17 long months of drowning in his self loathing, he'd figured there had to be something he could do to change the rate at which he was hurtling towards total self destruction. Finally leaving the house after long periods of holing himself up in his darkened room, he'd found himself hanging by the cemetery, practically plastered to his mothers grave. He'd weep, beg for guidance, fall asleep, and then weep some more. He'd wished that when he had his abilities he would've been able to hear her voice, however fleeting it may have been. He just needed something, anything, to grasp onto as a grounding comfort. He felt so alien in his own skin, like such a foreigner in his own world. Soon, he found himself wishing a hollow would just come over and kill him and send him to the sandy nothingness that was Hueco Mundo, but even he knew deep inside that he didn't even have enough reiatsu to attract a low level hollow anymore. Even the thought of it made him sick to his stomach. 

_ The days are a death-wish _

_ A witch-hunt for an exit _

_ I am powerless...   _

One especially painful day in early July, as his birthday drew near, he found himself manic and panicked, his psyche finally having gone under. He threw things from his desk in frustration, stripping his bed of his sheets, and ripping all his drawers from their spots tucked snugly into his dresser. His room had looked like a hurricane had blown through as all his belongings chaotically surrounded him as he knelt in the eye of the storm, all rational thought eclipsed by the overflow of misery that had taken hold of him. Staring at the state of disarray with eyes darkened with despondency, he noticed a gleaming object peeking out from under the contents that had spilled from his desk drawers. With a renewed sense of curiosity stabbing through him, he unearthed it from under the pile, only feeling sick when his mind finally caught up to what the metal object in his palms was. An old pocket knife that Chad had given him as a means of self defense back in eighth grade stared back at him, filling his mind with the darkest of desires. Before he could even work through the overwhelming feelings pooling into his chest, he let out a loud cry of absolute desolation as he bled himself onto his carpet like he'd dreamed of doing so  _ so _ many times.

_ The fragile, the broken _

_ Sit in circles and stay unspoken _

_ We are powerless...   _

He would find himself waking in a pure white room, air smelling of the same sterilization chemicals his father had routinely used in the clinic, except his father was nowhere to be found and he was sure this wasn't his home. A quick look at his bandaged wrists and it all flooded back to him so violently he leaned over the edge of his hospital bed, room twisting and turning so violently he was sure he was going to be sick. Once everything sunk in, he let himself sit back and become the same empty shell he'd been before. Unfeeling, unmoving, unloving, and defeated. He'd stay in the hospital for his mandatory 72 hours, sitting through the disgusting group therapy and swallowing every pill they'd shove down his throat. When he'd finally emerge from his ivory prison, he'd find himself carted to Kisuke's shop upon his father's request. He didn't know what the hat clad man could do to help his hopeless situation, but needless to say, it dredged up memories he'd rather have forgotten. Ichigo would have wanted to be anywhere but here. 

_ Because we all walk alone on an empty staircase _

_ Silent halls and nameless faces _

_ I am powerless...  _

The first couple weeks at Urahara's shop were hell; Yoruichi's constant maternal nagging driving him mad. Paired with Tessai's constant forcing of self care, bathing him and feeding him against his will, as well as Jinta's endless barrage of insults telling him how pathetic he already knew he was, he would've preferred death. Orihime had come to visit him a couple times, cupping his frowning face in her hands and crying at the sight of his empty emotionless gaze. She'd hug him and run her fingers through his long messy hair hoping that her Ichigo would come back to the surface, but that day never came. Soon Kisuke would stop ushering her in, and Ichigo would spend his days lost in silent solitude once again, wishing that time would speed up and claim his mortal life quickly, hoping that death would just wash away this agony like a surging wave dragging him out to sea.

_ Everybody wants to go to Heaven _

_ But nobody wants to die _

_ I can't fear death, no longer _

_ I've died a thousand times   _

When Ichigo woke one morning with a hand combing languidly through his greasy overgrown orange locks, he almost hummed absentmindedly, the hand emitting such a calming warmth that he could almost melt beneath it. Before he could even open his eyes, he was sure it wasn't Orihime this time, the calidity that dripped off the figure who's knees his head had rested upon was much too intense to be emitted from the small girl. It was masculine, that he was sure of, but he didn't care one bit. In the almost 20 months of absolute hopelessness he'd endured, he hadn't felt this warm in a very _ very _ long time. Perhaps it was Kisuke or maybe even Uryuu this time, and though the intrusion of his personal space was usually unwelcome to both of those men, he couldn't help but cast his normal reservations aside as he nudged himself further into the touch. As he pushed against the fingers that worked at his scalp, he was disappointed to feel them twitch away in surprise. Unhappy at the sudden emptiness festering back inside his chest where it had been for nearly 2 years, he opened his eyes, stomach dropping to his knees as he stared into familiar cobalt irises. At first he was sure he was dreaming- his shinigami powers were non-existent, so there was no way he could be staring into the gaze of the former sexta espada, but when a hand slapped him against his forehead and continued the ministrations in his hair, he couldn't deny the reality of his situation for very long.

_ Why explore the universe _

_ When we don't know ourselves?   _

"Is this real?" He managed to croak out, voice hoarse from a year and a half of being practically mute to those around him. 

"Do I look like a fuckin' ghost to you Kurosaki?" The blue-haired espada would scowl, tugging gently on his hair, "You look like shit,"

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Ichigo managed to crack a smile, "Feel like it too," He huffed out, grin dropping slightly when the sorrow in his brain made itself known, "You here to finally kill me?"

The air in the room changed drastically as Grimmjow's scowl deepened. He pulled Ichigo's hair forcefully, dragging his head into a position where he had no choice but to lock eyes with him. "Now what good would you be to me dead, huh Kurosaki? If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. End of story," The espada scoffed, gaze deepening with something almost akin to pity.

Closing his eyes, Ichigo tried to will away the suicidal ideation that plagued his being. Since his little stunt that got him sent into a hospital he hadn't attempted suicide again, but that hadn't stopped him from using his nails to dig and pick at his skin until it bled. Just the small acts of harm to himself gave him the minuscule rush of adrenaline that let him know that this wasn't some hellish purgatory he was stuck in, but instead the cold hard truth. Exposing the flesh of his neck to his former enemy, he sighed audibly. "Then _ want _ me dead," He blurted before he could even think, "It'll be easier for everyone in the long run. I'm useless here. At least when I'm dead I won't be a constant burden to everyone around m-"

Grabbing Ichigo's jaw forcibly, Grimmjow cut his sentence short, malice dripping from his gaze in waves. "I dare you to finish that sentence Kurosaki. You're being pretty fucking talkative for someone that the hat fucker told me was mute," He pushed Ichigo off of his lap, leaving the boy to roll to a stop a few inches away, overgrown hair covering his eyes as he faced him, "If you're going to act this far gone and pathetic, I'm going to take off this fuckin' meat suit and go back to Hueco Mundo. It's less depressing there than it is here looking at your sorry ass,"

At the threat of losing the warmth that had woken him that morning, Ichigo found his breathing picking up, heart-rate soaring at the reality of being alone again. The warm and soothing touches that had been given to him while he'd been barely conscious were addicting, filling the void in him as he dwelled on the healing touch that had gotten him into this useless fight in the first place. The espada was still just as feisty as usual, and even though Ichigo didn't know his motives just yet for coming to the human world at Kisuke's beck and call, he couldn't find it in himself to care about anything except for how warm he'd made him feel. Against his better judgment, he found himself wordlessly scrambling to Grimmjow's side and laying his head against his shoulder, the proximity and the faint smell of mint and sand lulling him into a state of complacency as the desolation in his heart simmered down to just a dull flickering flame.

_ There's an emptiness inside our heads _

_ That no one dares to dwell...  _

The first week that the espada had taken up residence at Kisuke's little shack was practically heaven sent. Day by day Ichigo could feel the sickness in his heart receding. He kept him on his toes- Bickering about every little negative remark that was made, practically force-feeding him whenever he’d skip out on dinner, and even slapping sense into him when he got stuck in his own depressive haze. It was surprisingly domestic and kind, even if his methods were rough and so very  _ Grimmjow _ , but even after a while of pure bliss he'd started to feel uneasy. Soon every small compassionate gesture was making his hairs stand on end and his paranoia soon got the best of him. Any short semblance of calm that he'd gotten had always disappeared, breeding a belief in him that happiness was only ever temporary. After one especially long mentally exhausting day, Ichigo had locked himself away in his room, hoping that if the brutish blue haired man had any sense left, he’d stay away. Though he had hoped, he knew deep inside that no matter how much he willed the electric blue problem away, he'd always find a way to bite back and dash his hopes. I mean really, since when had anything ever gone his way?

_ Throw me to the flames _

_ Watch me burn!   _

"What's got you so fuckin' pissy today, huh?" He'd said upon entering the room, "It's hard not to punch you normally, but  _ this _ , this is really testing my patience,"

Ichigo shrugged in Grimmjow's general direction, shrinking back under the blankets that covered his cot. He'd felt so pathetic, so weak and defenseless. He wanted to reply to the idiot with a snarky and sarcastic response, fighting him verbally until he knew he'd get the last word in, but he just didn't have it left in him. He didn't even have enough fight left to push the man off of his bedding once he'd sat down and rested his palm gently on his forehead.

"You're not fuckin' warm, and you're not sick. So what's got you so moody  _ princess _ ?" Grimmjow smirked down at him, enjoying the small flicker of defiance and annoyance that had gleamed in the ginger's eyes. 

Ichigo simply just turned over, training his eyes on the muddy lime wall of Urahara's shop. He wanted to focus on anything that wasn't Grimmjow- Anything that could zen him into a comatose state, even if only for a little while. Now more than ever he'd wished for Zangetsu back. Not to fight, but so that he could merely retreat into his inner world and just stay there in content as time flowed around him outside. Waking up every morning and feeling the same agonizing emptiness inside had become routinely exhausting, chipping at whatever sanity he had left. He was like a wobbling house of cards, one blow from toppling over.

_ Set my world ablaze _

_ Watch me burn!   _

"You listening to me Kurosaki?" Grimmjow was speaking to him, but everything sounded as if it were filtered through a thick sheet of glass. They sat so close, practically sharing body heat, but it was as if they were miles away from each other. He was drowning again, letting the melancholy consume him like a starving beast. It was just easier this way.

Before he could fully slip into the familiar daze of over-thinking and self criticism that he'd been so well acquainted with, he was yanked backwards forcefully until all he could see were the familiar shine of azure eyes. If he wasn't so much as partially aware of who was staring at him, he'd even venture to say that his gaze held sincerity, practically oozing concern for the form that lay beneath him. Ichigo sighed to himself. It was only wishful thinking after all.

Grimmjow was talking again, lips moving in a distinct manner, obviously forming words directed towards him, but it was as if he was already dragged beneath the waves of despair that drowned him every night, every word being lost and dragged out to sea. No matter how much the espada tried to get through to him, his methods were lost. He was numb again, rejecting everything except for his own hopelessness and soaking in the tides of despondency that seemed to wash over him. He closed his eyes briefly, just taking in the minty smell that surrounded him. No matter how much the aroma enchanted him and tried to calm his frayed nerves, he was unreachable, stuck between wanting to eradicate the nuisance that hovered over him and wishing that he could claim that wonderful scent as his own.

_ How are we on a scale of one to ten? _

_ Could you tell me what you see?   _

When he finally opened his eyes to the harsh sunlight that poured through the windows, he was absolutely astonished that the blue-haired espada hadn't moved all night, and upon further inspection, he noticed the espada gently snoring on his chest while the rest of his body lay in an awkward half sitting position, warm fingers threaded gently through his. He wanted to take the scene before him at face value, some selfish tinge of hope inside him elated that Grimmjow had cared enough for him to stay by his side all night, but he still wasn't even sure what he was seeing wasn't some tired mirage. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes lazily with his free hand, he sighed deeply. When the male on his chest only stirred and grunted in response to the heave in his chest, he was struck with the awe and panic that meant he wasn't dreaming. He had so many questions piling up on his tongue, words promptly dying before he could push them past his lips. He just gaped down at Grimmjow's sleeping form as his hand slowly curled around his, tightening and sending a surge of warmth straight into his broken soul.

_ Do you wanna talk about it? _

_ How does that make you feel?  _

Ichigo laid in stunned frozen silence for what felt like an eternity, until finally the male that anchored him down finally woke. 

"Good morning," He rasped out, voice still coated in sleep even though he'd been awake for what seemed like hours, "I'm, uh, sorry for worrying you. I wasn't myself yesterday,"

Lidded turquoise eyes stared into his honey ones, making him squirm under the weight that the espada's gigai was still pressing into him. For a moment he was convinced he was going to get punched square in the face, but as he closed his eyes and anticipated the hit, he felt a soft warm hand gently cup his cheek. Before he could even process the compassionate action and react accordingly, a drowsy rough voice halted all coherent thought in his brain.

"Don't do that again," He mused, shifting up on the bed so he could press their foreheads together, "You scared the fuckin' life out of me. The only other time I've seen your eyes so vacant was when you were a corpse. Just- don't fuckin' do that again okay?"

Stiffening under the enticing hot breath that brushed against his chapped lips, he swallowed audibly and nodded his head, losing whatever response he had formulated, proximity making the words die in his throat. 

The next 24 hours had proven to be awkward and surreal. Half of him felt like he was floating on a cloud, high off of witnessing an affectionate side of the espada he'd never even dreamed lay beneath his harsh exterior, but the other half of him felt an ominous tide rising in his gut, beckoning the overwhelming desperation in his heart forward in full force. He wanted to voice his discomfort to the blue-haired male, but as the day went on he'd noticed the irritability in the other spike to a new high, and that was all it took to discourage him from talking about his feelings. As the anguish festered and burned beneath his skin, he found himself swiping whatever prescriptions he'd gotten from the hospital from Kisuke's medicine cabinet, the sickness in his head dictating his actions the longer the night droned on. 

_ Have you ever took a blade to your wrists? _

_ Have you been skipping meals?  _

Purposely skipping his dinner, he retreated to his room before Grimmjow could even figure out anything was off. As the pill bottle jostled and made muffled tapping sounds in his pocket as he sped through the halls, he begun to pace himself, sure that Kisuke and Yoruichi were already onto him as his paranoia spiked to an unprecedented level. As soon as he slid his door closed, the entire bottle was chugged down and swallowed. He laid on the floor and stared up at the ceiling, counting slowly down from one hundred and holding onto his consciousness as long as he could. His grip on the pill bottle loosened, and he felt it roll out of his grip and out of reach. Everything after that became a blur.

_ We're gonna try something new today _

_ How does that make you feel?   _

He faintly remembered hearing muttered swearing as his body was jostled back and forth. The minty smell that enveloped him was welcome with a hum that he couldn't tell was internal or not. The scene whirl-pooled around him, and the next thing he remembered was being dragged through the halls of Urahara's shop by his wrists, eyes lidded lazily and staring into panicked ocean blue. Not being able to remember the details in between, he vaguely remembered the feeling of fingers down his throat as lukewarm water beat down over his head, coaxing whatever pills he'd swallowed to come back up. No matter how much he'd tried to remember the events that followed, his brain couldn't grasp them, the medicine haze wiping away everything that wasn't prominent. The last thing he could remember was the soft press of warm lips to his and he drifted to sleep.

_ Hold me close, don't let go   _

Before he could open his eyes and shake away the lethargy in his bones, he felt an arm tighten around his waist, pulling him closer to the sweet heat pressed against him. Eyelids still lazily shut, he braced his palms gently against the chest in front of him, weakly trying to separate the hold the other had on him. He was sure he was dreaming, the thought of anyone holding his pathetic form as he slept an absolutely absurd notion, but as that familiar earthy mint swirled around him, his eyes fluttered open and took in the scene in front of him. Lightly snoring still, Grimmjow's arms were wrapped firmly around him, holding his fragile and feeble form protectively against him. Stubbornly his instincts wanted him to wriggle out of the grip and smack the other upside the head for treating him like such a girl, but the longer the rise and fall of the espada's chest lulled Ichigo into a sense of safety, the harder it was to reject him.

He tugged gently on the black tank top that covered the espada's chest, trying to jostle him awake and ask him what he was doing in his bed, but as he inspected the male's face further, it all came flooding back to him. Dark worry ridged circles sat under Grimmjow's sleeping eyes, and though he was in deep sleep his brows were still furrowed, a faint scowl ghosting his face. Ichigo had tried to kill himself last night. The details were hazy, but he was sure that it had happened in the spur of the moment yet again, the sorrow in his soul getting the best of him and clouding his judgment. In retrospect he'd definitely regretted it, and dwelling deeper on it he'd realized that though he felt absolutely out of place the past two years, now that he had Grimmjow around, he actually wanted to get better. Whether it be for the good of himself or selfishly for the other, he felt the need to claw his way back to sanity washing over him like fresh rain. Touching his lips absently, he remembered the soft press of lips against his before he finally had blacked out last night. Eyes widening in realization and ears heating in embarrassment, he ripped himself from Grimmjow's grip and tumbled off the edge of the cot. When the espada sat up in a sleepy haze of panic, all Ichigo could do was point an accusatory finger at him and yell, "You kissed me!"

_ Watch me burn...  _

Throwing a pillow directly into Ichigo's face, the espada growled and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Don't do that you fuckin' moron," He drawled, uncharacteristically calm,  "Yeah I kissed you, what's the big deal? What, was it your first kiss or something?" Grimmjow lazily smirked- an open challenge for the ginger on the floor below him.

Glowering and feeling his face burn in mortification at the revelation that that was indeed his first kiss, he chucked the pillow back up at the grinning moron, the soft fabric slapping against his face in a satisfying puffing sound. "Why?" Ichigo shrieked out, voice a few octaves higher than he'd have liked it to be, "What the fuck possessed you to do that?" 

Though he was sure he sounded angry, in truth he was just surprised. It was no secret that he harbored some brand of affectionate feelings for the espada, but never in a million years had he imagined kissing him, let alone be the one _receiving_ the kiss. Everything baffled him, the events of the last 24 hours making him dizzy and confused as they swam in his already full brain.

While his brain was occupied with actually malfunctioning, he found himself realizing all too late that the blue haired male had lunged at him, effectively pinning him to the cool floor by his thinned wrists. "Jeez Kurosaki, you're so weak I could snap you in half if I wanted to," His mouth was way too close to the ginger's own, leaving the dust of pink across his cheeks to turn into an angry red. Biology be damned, he hated the overactive blood vessels in his face. "Listen dumbass, I'm going to run this by you once, so you better listen the fuck up. First of all, if you ever pull a stupid fucking stunt like you did last night, I will break my way into the fuckin' Soul Society and kill you a goddamn second time. You're lucky that I was here, or you'd be a dead man. Now, second, I don't just go around fuckin' kissing people for fun. That meant something, whether I want to admit it or not, so from now on, just take care of your weak human body alright?"

Before Ichigo could dispute any claims, he found those same lips on his, kissing him with a languid roughness that he hadn't expected from the other man. Knowing that his face and the pleased heat emanating from his body would give him away anyway, he kissed back amateurly, trying his best to mimic the experienced movements of the other. Lips moving lazily against the other's, tongues delving further into their mouths than he'd have expected, and hands tangling themselves in foreign sky blue locks, Ichigo felt more content than he had in a whopping 22 months. 

Pulling away with a thin string of saliva still connecting them, he stared into the espada's eyes, still unsure of the others actions. Though his heart screamed for him to reconnect their lips with reckless abandon, his brain was blaring with neon warning signs. The depression and paranoia that edged deep inside of him had led him to sever his ties with all those he held dear, so why was his ex-enemy any exception? Why did he believe in his sincerity more than he believed those he'd fought so hard to protect?

"Why are you doing this?" Ichigo was breathless, voice betraying the cool front he'd tried to put up, "You know I'm broken merchandise, you know I'm human, and you know I have no desire to fight you, let alone live most days. So what's my appeal to you Grimmjow?"

The espada sighed against Ichigo's face, hot breath making him involuntarily shiver, "Even if you're a weakling, you're still Kurosaki," He started, "Though, do you really think I'd get myself involved with you if I didn't already have a plan? I wouldn't be wasting my time on someone who was going to grow old and die, now shut up and _kiss me_ ,"

Reconnecting their lips, Ichigo wrapped his arms around Grimmjow and pulled him closer. It would take a while for him to recover from the clinical depression assaulting his senses, but he was sure that with Grimmjow there, it would be an interesting journey. He was intrigued by whatever plan the espada had drawn up, multiple excited insinuations burning through his mind at a harsh speed. As much as he wanted to inquire about what he'd planned to do for the human predicament Ichigo had found himself in, he found himself shutting his mind up, pressing his body tighter against Grimmjow's and losing himself in the rhythm of their kiss.

_ In this hospital for souls   _

 


	2. Eternally Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for waiting for this chapter :') I'm a totally horrible procrastinator and I really wanted this chapter to be everything I'd envisioned it to be, so I rewrote it one too many times lol So here it finally is! The awaited conclusion!
> 
> Song used is Eternally Yours by Motionless in White! Enjoy!

_Blow the bridge to the past  
Wipe the fingerprints_  

Months went by, effervescent and glowing while Ichigo stayed morose and cynical, still a slave to his 'healing' depression. He was 19 now and finally living back at home with his family. Though he was still absolutely miserable, his makeshift relationship with Grimmjow soothed him enough to keep him on his feet. He'd gotten his GED and he'd even started regularly going to therapy as per the espada's request. While Ichigo was gone during the day, Grimmjow spent time with Kisuke, both of them working tirelessly to figure out a way to return the substitute shinigami's powers. Ichigo wasn't too hopeful they'd succeed, but he was grateful that they were trying nonetheless.

Today though, had been one of his low days. He'd had to meet Uryuu and Orihime for coffee after a call from his therapist beckoned a canceling to their appointment. It wasn't as if he'd enjoyed therapy, quite the opposite really, it was just the fact that he was going to be alone that seemed to vex him. His only option had been to ask Orihime to keep him company, who promptly ended up inviting Uryuu along with her. He really didn't mind hanging out with them, but the constant sickening sadness that hung over him like a dark cloud made him want to just crawl under his blankets and hide. 

Orihime had asked him how he was doing, even inquiring about the espada that she knew was keeping him company. Apparently around his gifted  friends, it was blatantly obvious he'd spent so much time with Grimmjow; Although he was always in his gigai, his reiatsu still rubbed off on Ichigo with their close proximity. It was definitely embarrassing at first, his sexuality never being confirmed nor denied among his friends, but now that it was out in the air he felt a little less apprehensive about it. Uryuu inquired about it as well, making sure he was being treated fairly and confirming that Ichigo was still taking his medication and so on. It was a pleasant meet-up, but the anchors of anguish that weighed him down had him dismissing himself early, wishing only for the solitude of his bedroom. Without Grimmjow constantly by his side, he was becoming numb again. At his wits end, he was almost tempted to tell him and Kisuke to just forget it- he needed the espada more than he needed his powers. He was never going to get them back anyway. He was sure of that by now. 

 _Melt your heart encased in wax  
Steal it with a kiss_  

His eternally souring mood kept him company on his slow trek home, and by the time he was dragging his legs up the stairs to his bedroom, he'd effectively wanted to drop off the face of the Earth. To Ichigo's surprise, Grimmjow was spread across his duvet reading some formally discarded play-book off his shelf, glaring into the pages as he struggled with the words. "Did Aizen forget to teach you how to read or something? You look constipated," Ichigo murmured, taking a seat at his desk and giving the espada his full attention.

Grimmjow chucked the book at him, smacking him dead in the forehead with it, "Ha ha, very funny asshole. I'm not fuckin' stupid. How can you read that garbage?" He pointed an accusing finger at the copy of Hamlet that lay upside down now in Ichigo's lap, "The words are all weird and none of it makes sense. I don't see how you could enjoy that,"

Tossing the book to the side, Ichigo took his usual spot laying across the espada's chest, instantly feeling the burdens of the day lifting from his tired shoulders. He'd sure missed this. "Hamlet was written in the seventeenth century you dolt. Language was different back then, it's not that easy to understand the first time around," He hummed in absentminded delight when Grimmjow's fingers found his hair, undoing his ponytail and letting the orange strands fall free across his back and shoulders, "Besides, it's a play. It's not supposed to be read like a book,"

The blue-haired male only grunted, letting his fingers work at Ichigo's scalp as he practically purred against him. The silence for once was very calming to the ginger teen. Usually silence was filled with loneliness and anxiety inducing thoughts that plagued his brain until he was left begging for an escape, but with Grimmjow's calming fingers combing through his hair, he didn't feel bothered by the quiet that hung in the air of his bedroom. 

"Kisuke and I made a breakthrough today on your powers," Grimmjow mused, finally breaking the silence, "But it's tedious. You have to make a decision before anything happens, alright?"

Ichigo perked up at that, feeling the self-resentment and stewing negativity that clouded his brain evaporating at the thought of being a shinigami once more. Resting his chin on Grimmjow's chest, he stared up at him, "Oh? Is it so serious that the big bad espada is worried about me?" Ichigo mockingly cooed, "Don't worry about me. I might be human, but that doesn't mean I'm made of glass. What's this decision I have to make?"

 _Our fate engraved_  
_Scar enslaved_  
_As we mutually destruct_   

The blue-haired male averted his gaze, alerting Ichigo that whatever this crack-pot plan was that they had cooked up was much more serious than he'd imagined. Of course- it was never easy when Kisuke was involved. "You're probably not going to like to hear this but," he paused, looking for the right words to say, "You can't regain your shinigami powers. When Kisuke restored them before, whenever the fuck that was, it was because you already had reiatsu inside you. Now that you have none, without the help of that wrinkly dirt-bag in the Soul Society, your powers are gone for good,"

Despite what he should have felt, there was no anger, no sorrow, not even surprise. Instead, Ichigo was just numb, hung on every one of Grimmjow's words. "Alright, I understand that," He took a deep breath, "But that doesn't explain your grand tedious plan,"

"Well," Grimmjow started, "Over the last few months, Kisuke and I created a sword. After putting enough of my reiatsu in it, it's pretty fuckin' possible I can give you some of my power," He paused mulling over Ichigo's perplexed expression, "Catch is, hat man is pretty sure you'd become an espada. Not a shinigami."

Ichigo let the new information sink in, taking care to keep his poker face and avert any reaction he felt deep inside. The arrancar weren't a direct threat to the Soul Society anymore per say, but he was sure the head captain still thought that their race was an abomination. After all, espada like Grimmjow were strengthened and trained by Aizen, and to become one himself would surely create an even greater wedge between him and the Gotei 13 after all this time apart. He weighed his options. The pro would certainly be staying with Grimmjow longer than his mortal body would allow, along with the fact he could always leave Kon in his body when he visited Hueco Mundo, and he'd still have contact with Karin and Yuzu and his father, hell, he'd even have his psychic abilities back so he could interact with Rukia and Renji. The cons certainly didn't matter to him after that revelation, but before he could voice his agreement Grimmjow stopped him dead in his tracks.

"I wasn't finished," He set his warm hand on Ichigo's cheek, pain evident in his usual stony gaze, "I never told you why it was tedious," He took a breath, "I'd have to kill you,"

_Repose, my love, I've sinned enough for the both of us_

The room was spinning, twirling and twisting like a spinning tunnel in a fun-house. He was sure that there couldn't have been a con to his fool proof plan, but like he had realized long ago, nothing  _ever_   went his way. He could deal with living in Hueco Mundo; Las Noches was a beautiful place when the threat of sudden death didn't constantly hang over their heads. He could even deal with living in the form of an espada, but giving up his future all for one person? Leaving his family and friends to live a life in a completely different world? Could he really do that for Grimmjow?

"Kurosaki?" The blue-haired espada grabbed Ichigo's face gently, bringing him back to reality, "Listen, I don't say shit like this normally because it's sappy and human and disgusting, but I don't want to risk losing you forever. Killing you with that sword puts all the trust in my reiatsu to bring you back- if I'm not powerful enough, you die. For good. I'll stay with you until you drop of old age or something just- don't make me your murderer,"

 "And what if I told you I'd be willing to die for you?" 

Ichigo had blurted the words unconsciously, every syllable leaving his mouth before he could stop them. His brain was working on autopilot, the new information crowding his mind and inhibiting his judgment. Though he hadn't meant to say it, he found himself agreeing with his impulsive statement. Grimmjow had come across worlds to be there for him- No matter how stubborn or lost or broken, he'd stayed at his side, putting up with it and doing everything in his power to shoulder the burden as well. He was more than anything Ichigo could have asked for. He was more comfort than any of his so called  _'friends'_  had tried to give him. They'd retreated back to the Gotei like rats, never even bothering to ask Kisuke for a gigai to come see him, and yet, Kisuke said one thing to Grimmjow about Ichigo's state of self deprecation and he'd been there in a heartbeat. What did that have to say about where his loyalty now lied?

Grimmjow scowled, switching their positions so Ichigo's back was now pressed against the bed as he hovered over him, hand firmly squeezing the smaller males neck in frustration, "I'd tell you that you were a fuckin' idiot! Do you even understand the risks? We're talking about real death here! No second chance, no soul society, _just death,_ "

Ichigo couldn't help but let out a humorless laugh, not at all intimidated by the fingers wrapped tightly against his throat, "I understand the risks perfectly," He rasped out, breathing now labored as the espada tightened his grip, "I wasn't afraid of you when you had actually wanted to kill me, and I'm not afraid of you now. I've seen death before Grimmjow- I've tasted it and let it envelop my entire being, I know it more than you could ever imagine," He paused, gazing warmly up at Grimmjow with his honey eyes, "You've saved my life, it's only fair that I give it back to you in return,"

 With a loud smack reverberating through the room, Ichigo instinctively grabbed his cheek as the sting tingled through his nerves. "Don't you dare look at me with those fuckin' eyes! You're just so goddamn eager to die, it's pathetic! It pisses me off!" Abruptly, Grimmjow removed his grip from the ginger completely, touching his hands to his own face in astonishment.

Ichigo sat up, instantly mimicking the espada's actions and forgetting about the harsh slap that had ignited a fire across the surface of his cheek. His eyebrows nearly shot up into his hairline as he lifted them in concern, "Are- Are you  _crying_?" 

 _In the name of love..._  
_I'm ready to bury all of my bones_  
_I'm ready to lie but say I won't_

"You just don't  _understand,_  you stupid fuckin' human," Grimmjow started, letting his eyes burn in frustration, "I lost these stupid feelings a long time ago. I don't know how or why this last year happened, but somewhere deep in my empty chest this all really fuckin' hurts. I can't imagine existing in a place without  _you_. It's always fuckin' you Kurosaki!" He flailed his arms around in exasperated discontent, "Of course I want you to live with me in Hueco Mundo, of course I want you with me forever, no matter what the fuck you become- but you can't do that  _dead!_ " Grabbing Ichigo by the collar of his shirt, he pushed his forehead against the smaller male's and let out a shakey breath, "For once in as long as I can remember, I don't trust my strength. I'm not strong enough to do this shit! Not when you're on the line."

Wrapping his arms around the espada, Ichigo smiled at him, whispering gently, "You're plenty strong enough," before connecting their lips in a soothing and eager kiss.

Ichigo had kissed the feisty espada what felt like hundreds of thousands of times over the last year, but he swore that every time had felt exactly like the first. He always took his breath away and ignited a fire within him so fierce it threatened to burn him from the inside out. Grasping at electric blue messy locks, he dragged Grimmjow back down on top of him, wrapping his legs around his waist with ease. The longer their lips were connected, the more desperate their movements became, the fruition of all their complicated emotions finally tangling, their burden becoming one as they confided in each other the only way that they knew how. With the blue-haired espada's hands pulling gently at his long hair and licking and nibbling at his lips, he couldn't help but let out a soft moan, opening his mouth just wide enough for Grimmjow to slip his tongue in. 

Within a couple minutes they had become lost in their movements, the trials of the day melting away as they explored each others mouths, saliva gingerly dripping down their chins. They became indefinitely more erratic, absolutely enthralled with one another as slick tongues slid against each other. Slipping his hand beneath the waistband of Grimmjow's sweatpants, Ichigo was greeted with a growl of appreciation as his slender fingers wrapped around his hardening length. He closed his eager palm around him, massaging his thumb across the head and pausing every so often to play with the slit. Soon the espada was bucking into his every movement, groaning into Ichigo's mouth as they swapped saliva. He would've never verbally admitted it, but times like these that he'd shared with Grimmjow had become a favorite pastime for him. Of course sex wasn't an acceptable method to combat depression, just like smoking and drinking were not, but something about being intimate and baring his raw, naked and natural self to the espada with no inhibitions drew light to the surface of his brain where only darkness had ever seemed to have resided. Sex was a beautiful and careful dance of trust between the two, and whether Grimmjow was aware of it or not, it was slowly building up the crumbled structure of Ichigo's old strength and sense of purpose. Intimacy was something he had never taken lightly, and his experiences with the blue-haired male had proven to him how right he was to save moments like these to share with someone who was irreplaceable. Someone who had somehow through a twist of fate become the center of his universe.

Pulling back and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Grimmjow quickly rose, discarding his pants before sitting back down on the bed and beckoning Ichigo to the floor between his legs. Wordlessly and without hesitation the ginger followed where he was led. It was mechanical by now- Ichigo knew exactly how to please Grimmjow and spared no ounce of trust while they were intimate. He gave him everything, every bit of himself to do with as he pleased, and surprisingly, the act of being treated like the _only one_ in the universe instead of being the one that _held up_ the entire universe was extremely healing. He hadn't known the happiness of a symbiotic relationship until now and shinigami laws be damned, it was an espada that had captured his heart. Ichigo finally took the entire length of the arrancar into his mouth, kneeling between his lovers knees and losing his train of thought as he swallowed around him, earning yet another affectionate groan of approval. He'd lost his gag reflex long ago- thanks to an unfortunate incident with Keigo and a banana during a dare in high school- and he'd never been so thankful for it. He took Grimmjow all the way to the back of his throat, nose tickled by thick cyan curls that smelled so strongly of musk and mint that he felt absolutely intoxicated. Swallowing again around his full length, he listened blissfully as the espada groaned in absolute nirvana above him. He grabbed at Ichigo's hair, gaining a fistful of it and thrusting into the boys mouth of his own accord. Ichigo didn't mind, in fact he quite enjoyed it, holding his mouth open for the other and waiting ardently for him to abuse his throat.

When Ichigo could tell Grimmjow was getting close, he stilled his movements with a firm hand on his hip, and sucked graciously from base to tip as he released with a satisfying pop. He was sure he was a sight to behold- long orange strands tangled and in utter disarray, chin coated in saliva as thin ribbons dripped down onto his shirt, with lips an angry cherry color after being both kissed and fucked one right after the other. While he was usually slightly embarrassed with his sexed out disheveled appearance, he always found it endearing when he felt lust filled pools of sky blue staring down at him, taking in every detail before continuing their escapade.

 _So tell me your secrets_  
_And join me in pieces_  
_To rot in this garden made of stones_  

For once Ichigo was glad it was midday. The fact his sisters were at school and his father was out doing god-knows-what was going to make his life so much easier in the coming moments. As Grimmjow unbuckled Ichigo's belt and slid his jeans and boxers down his thighs and off of him entirely in one motion, he bit his lip in almost giddy anticipation. Opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out, he beckoned the espada's warm fingers in, swirling his tongue around the digits and coating them in his spit when he felt the espada's soft pads against the wet muscle. Ichigo found himself lost in his ministrations momentarily, until a muffled moan was drawn from his throat in surprise as Grimmjow's warm tongue licked a stripe up his solid member, taking it into his mouth and sucking him sloppily as he moved his fingers slowly against the gingers tongue. It took every ounce of Ichigo's self control not to lose it and buck up into the warm heat that surrounded him, but as the espada's finger's languidly retreated from his lips and found his waiting entrance, he felt his thread like control slipping. Pushing one finger past the tight muscle zealously, he felt Ichigo tense under him in surprise as his own cool saliva coated his insides. Moving his finger in and out and slowly getting Ichigo used to it, he continued to suck fervently, making the ginger arch his back in pleasure with moans and obscenities dripping off his lips.

When Grimmjow had filled him with three of his fingers and convinced himself Ichigo was ready, he sat up and grabbed for the ginger's desk drawer in search of the box of condoms he knew awaited him there, only to be stopped by the grip of shaky thin fingers on the hem of his shirt. 

"I don't fucking care," Ichigo panted, honey eyes now appearing a considerably darker shade of chocolate brown as they practically oozed lust, "Just get inside of me. I can't take it anymore,"

Ichigo was normally not so vulgar and daring, but the emotion and sentimentality that budded in his chest over the thoughts of spending the rest of eternity at Grimmjow's side called for a little bit of recklessness. Of course he hated the sticky clean-up and the wet feeling inside of him that didn't seem to cease for hours afterward, but something said that today's intimate excursion was more than just lust. Today it was a reassurance, a promise,  _a bond_ , and if that wasn't an occasion to share an even deeper part of himself (both figuratively and literally) then he didn't know what was. 

Needing no more invitation than that, Grimmjow spat into his hand, coating his own neglected member before easing himself into Ichigo in one long thrust. The ginger let out a lengthy drawn out moan, arching his back and shifting his hips as he wrapped his legs around the espada once more, pushing him deeper inside. It didn't take long for them to set up an erratic pace, matching each other's rough thrusts almost perfectly as they filled the room with the soundtrack of their pleasures, complete with moans and groans from the both of them as wet slaps echoed throughout the room. 

Through his moans, he grabbed at the espada's biceps and spoke against the rough thrusts that assaulted his body. "You don't trust-  _ahhhnn_ \- your strength huh?" He started, pausing to bite his lip and quench the sounds that wouldn't stop spilling from deep in his throat, "Sounds like bullshit to me. You can control yourself- _mmmnnah_ \- just fine. I trust you Grimm, so-  _AH!_ \- trust me, okay?" It was a mushy sentiment that he knew he'd get lectured by the faux macho arrancar for later but it needed to be said. He'd give his life to Grimmjow as many times as necessary if he could, and that still wouldn't be enough to show the espada in what high regard he held him. When his father had openly spoken about his late mother as if she was an ethereal goddess, he'd always chalked it up to his father's annoying theatrics, but now that he was starting to really fall in love for the first time, he realized that perhaps maybe Isshin wasn't too far off. Whenever he stared at Grimmjow now, even though he was supposed to be some opposing evil undead being that was out for his blood, he could swear his image was always smeared with the faint glow of a halo, like the guardian angel he'd absolutely turned out to be.

Wrapping Ichigo's body tightly in his arms, Grimmjow kissed him with renewed vigor, so enthralled by the boy that he could hardly stand it. Thrusting fiercely into him, he could feel himself on the edge of completion, and knowing Ichigo was close too, he angled his thrusts and picked up his pace as he slammed into the spot he knew would make Ichigo scream. With only a few more thrusts, the ginger was tightening around him as he released onto his shirt, coating both him and Grimmjow in white. Not even seconds later the espada felt the coiling in his gut as he buried himself deep within tightening walls as he came inside of the now panting ginger. 

When they both had finally caught their breath, Grimmjow pulled out and lazily flopped down next to Ichigo, pulling him into an almost suffocating embrace. The silence didn't last long however, as the espada buried his face into Ichigo's hair and sighed. "You really think I can do this, huh?" He mumbled into the ginger's scalp, "You'd really risk dyin'- all for me?"

Without hesitation, Ichigo nodded his head answering both questions wordlessly, shuffling even closer to Grimmjow as the Autumn chill blew through his window and breezed past his naked hips. "Of course," He started, planting a kiss on the espada's collarbone, "I love you, you fucking moron," 

Even drowning in post coital bliss, Grimmjow let out a breathy laugh at Ichigo's ever vibrant attitude and colorful response. "You're making a big mistake strawberry. Now that you've said that, I hope you know it's going to be much harder getting rid of me," He flopped the two over, pulling Ichigo's lithe form on top of him. They kissed briefly and leisurely, only breaking for air when the espada's lip was bit harshly. "Ow- you fuck! What was that for?"

"I'm not going to try and get rid of you dumbass," Ichigo narrowed his tired eyes at the blue-haired male in annoyance, "The whole point of letting you run through me with some magical sword should be proof enough I'm willing to deal with your cocky attitude for the rest of time,"

Grimmjow couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah yeah, whatever. I love you too, you fuckin' hot-head,"

_I feed like you taught me and selflessly swallow  
We coalesce in darkness, so selfishly hollow  _

The day of reckoning came all too soon, and Ichigo found himself laying across his duvet wrapped in quiet anxiety. He trusted his life in Grimmjow's capable hands, but the thought of explaining the situation to his father and two young sisters filled him with insurmountable dread. How would he be able to rationalize gambling his life to become an  _Espada_  of all things? It was moments like these where Ichigo found himself silently cursing Aizen and his entire existence for putting him into this situation- but then again, he wouldn't have his blue-haired nightmare without the traitorous ex-shinigami, so he guessed that was one redeeming quality to the stress he was going through. 

"Kurosaki are you even listening to a goddamn word coming out of my mouth?" He heard the harsh sentence brush past his ears but it wasn't until a warm hand clamped over his forehead that he finally faced the source of the sound, "You feelin' okay? You look like you're already knocking on death's door and we haven't even started yet,"

Ichigo couldn't hold back the small grin on his face at Grimmjow's jab, letting a soft chuckle escape as blue eyes bore into him in confusion. "Yeah- Yeah, I'm fine. I've just got a lot on my mind. Shit may seem easy to you because you play the lone wolf, but when I make decisions, I've got to take into consideration that if I die, I have people who would miss me," He sat up and looked down to hide the conflicting emotions dancing across his face, "I'm 100% sure on my decision to do this, yet I'm still sitting here like a fucking crybaby because I'm afraid of what my dad will say. Pretty sad excuse for a 19 year old huh?"

Rough warm fingers grabbed at his chin and pulled his gaze forcefully from the carpet under him. His cinnamon eyes were met with azure as the arrancar began to speak, "I don't know what your age has to do with your moral compass  _dumbass_ , but you need to snap out of it. So what if you're finally making a decision for your fuckin' self? Why do you always have to include others in everything you do? You sit here and joke that I'm a 'lone wolf' but do you ever see me with my head hung over feeling sorry and shit for doing what I want to do?" He pressed his forehead against the ginger's damp fringe, "Listen, I don't mean to sound like an asshole, but you seriously need to cut the chord Kurosaki. You don't need approval every time you make a choice. If you want to do something that makes you happy, just fuckin' do it. If anyone criticizes it, get rid of them. You don't need pussies dragging you down,"

Though the dread had been hanging over him all week, Ichigo found himself chuckling at Grimmjow's unusually sentimental response, earning a pointed glare from said espada. "I'm not laughing at you or criticizing you," He huffed out, laughing softly at the sour face directed at him despite his claims, "You just really sound like a bad fortune cookie,"

The blue-haired male pulled away from him fully, flicking him on the forehead before planting a kiss over the reddening mark, "You know, I really hate you Kurosaki,"

The ginger smiled warmly up at him and snaked his arms around broad shoulders so he could be lifted against the taller man, "Uh-huh, sure. I totally believe you  _shithead_ ," He earned himself another flick, "Ow! Would you stop doing that? Just take me to Kisuke's and kill me already. I'm getting sick of brooding. I've made my decision, now let's go get it over with before I regret the balls that your pep-talk just gave me,"

There was a small flicker of anxiety in Grimmjow's eyes as Ichigo's words sunk in but he willed it away in favor of giving the boy a small smile as he hoisted him closer to his chest. "You don't need me to give you balls Kurosaki. You fucked up Aizen, and that's more than my sorry ass could do," He paused to flash a sharp toothed grin at the ginger, "You ever tell anyone I said that and I'll end you, got it?" An affectionate nod was given, "Now let's go do this thing."

 _Examine the wreckage_  
_Writhing in tempo_  
_Invisible anguish casting a shadow_   

Laying on the gritty dirt covered ground that covered Kisuke's underground training room, Ichigo surprisingly felt less apprehensive than he had at home. Upon arriving and noticing his conflicted gaze, the hat-clad shop owner had assured him that he'd talked to his family and friends about his plans, their unwavering support pouring in for Ichigo's decision. Though they had all disputed the choice in the beginning knowing the risk, they conceded in the end that it was the ginger's life to do with as he pleased. If he loved the arrancar that much, then they would absolutely support his desire to be with him.

Tessai appeared over Kisuke's shoulder, the sword he donned glowing an electric teal color. The color couldn't have screamed 'Grimmjow' louder if it had tried, the shade nearly matching the intense shade of his eyes and hair. Slowly and carefully he watched the espada in question pick up the weapon and examine it with trepidation in his gaze, not bothering to hide the anxiety that danced between his pale eyelids. Ichigo felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. Though the idea was originally Grimmjow and Kisuke's, he'd talked the arrancar into going through with it, and whether that bit of involvement was minuscule or not, he shouldered some of the blame for the espada's discomfort.

Straddling his hips, Grimmjow positioned the tip of the blade over Ichigo's heart and let out a shakey breath. "You ready? No goin' back after this,"

Ichigo nodded firmly, closing his eyes temporarily and humming a soft noise of contentment. "Mmm, yeah. I trust you idiot, now get this over with already. Fear doesn't look good on you Grimm," Seeing the dumbfounded look on the other's face, he gave a taunting smile in jest, hoping to lighten the mood but failing when he noticed the darkened glint in the espada's eyes. 

Grimmjow growled, gripping the sword tighter and drawing a thin stream of blood from the ginger's chest. "You fuckin' suck, you know that? I ain't scared. I'm just-" He trailed off, eyes seemingly fixated on the small crimson trickle that ran down the grooves of Ichigo's exposed ribs and stained the dirt below, "I'm just thinking,  _okay_? Got a lot on my mind. Haven't killed anyone in a long time is all,"

The ginger narrowed his eyes, not believing the arrancar's lie in the slightest. He understood the defensive nature of the other, helping to diminish his annoyance at his inability to just be truthful about what he felt. Ichigo knew better than anyone though he supposed. He'd spent all this time letting depression take a hold of him with her greedy claws, dragging him beneath the rough waves until he was rubbed raw by their unwavering power. Ichigo had been just a mere suicidal husk of a person when Grimmjow had stumbled his way back into his life- he was a hypocrite in every way possible and yet the espada embraced him and forgave him every time things became too much. He'd never deserved this kindness. He was unworthy and unfit to hold the heart of someone else in his rough hands. 

_As we rest in pieces, though I know not your name  
I would suffer forever to absolve all your pain  _

He'd expected pain, that was a given, but the searing burning that crawled under his skin and dug into his chest like thousands of tiny daggers had him in absolute agony. He fought every natural instinct to scream so that the storm clouds in Grimmjow's gaze would clear, but the feeling of molten lava surging through his core was too much even for him to handle. Blood traveled in hasty droplets down the expanse of his chin as his teeth ground into his bottom lip, the pain clenching every muscle in his body. Crimson pooled beneath him as his heart was fully punctured; His back was warm and sticky, his body becoming cold and sickly as it glowed a strong blue hue. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe, and instantly he recognized the seizing feeling, nostalgia washing over him as he practically felt Ulquiorra's fist puncturing his chest once more. This feeling was death welcoming him into it's clutches. Ichigo was... content.

By now, Grimmjow's eyes were screwed shut in concentration, focusing adamantly on keeping the steady flow of reiatsu pooling into Ichigo's mortal body. Nothing had distracted him thus far, centralization of his thoughts being one of his talents among the other espada, but once he felt the thin fragile and body under his go limp, his reiatsu almost completely flickered away from Ichigo as a whole. 

He opened his eyes in fear, surveying the boy's placid expression and almost jumping away in disgust. The soft vibrations of his beating heart had no longer rung against the hilt of the sword, his skin pale and sallow as his body drained what was left of his humanity into the dirt below. The sight was something that Grimmjow was sure he would never forget, the mere image of it filling him with such sickening dread that he almost doubled over and vomited on the rocky terrain surrounding him. 

"Kuro-Kurosaki?" He managed to croak out, not even noticing how weak his own voice sounded. He whipped his head around so that his eyes met Kisuke's in a frantic daze, "What's wrong with him? I know he was supposed to fuckin' die, but I thought he was supposed to come right fuckin' back!" 

Kisuke tipped his hat down over his eyes, skillfully blocking the enraged glare of the espada, "Whether he comes back or not is entirely based on if he has the force of will to accept your reiatsu Mr. Jaegerjaques, something that you seemed to have forgotten you need to be focusing on to even give Ichigo a fighting chance," He chuckled, but even as oblivious as Grimmjow usually was, he could hear the strain coming from the older man, "Don't focus on the corpse under you- focus on reanimating it.  _Fill it with everything you've got_ ,"

Getting the picture almost instantly, Grimmjow yanked his sword out of Ichigo and pressed his palm against it, beckoning his resurrección . It took all of two seconds before his hand reached frantically into Ichigo's chest and grabbed his stilled heart. Pumping every ounce of amplified reiatsu he could into the ginger's heart and body, he leaned down and gave him a languid kiss on cold blood smeared lips.

"Come Kurosaki," He pleaded, "I already told you didn't I? Don't make me your murderer."

_I'm ready to bleed to make amends  
And sleep in this dirt we call our bed  _

He was encased in a sea of black. The liquid that had submerged him felt like tar, filling his lungs with thick fluid and anchoring him down to the bottom of the forsaken sea. The scenery was vaguely familiar, thanks to the days he'd spent training internally with Zangetsu, but his clouded brain knew that it was just death's mirage. They'd always said that when you died you'd return to the form you were most happy in, probably to ensure to us that we wouldn't be wrinkly and frail in the afterlife, and though that point was drilled into his head in his youth, Ichigo had never believed a word of it. Perhaps he was wrong and it held some candle of truth within it after all.

He laid against the hard surface of a tall roof and took in his surroundings as he coughed and sputtered at the liquid that threatened to choke him before he drowned. He gave in all too quickly, rolling his head to the side and accepting the onslaught of discomfort that enveloped him like a suffocating wet blanket.

"You've become much too pathetic, King," A voice taunted from the murky shadows, "And here I was ready and willing to help you because you'd seemed so honorable before you croaked," A shrill laugh assaulted his ears and he'd sworn he'd heard it before, "So tell me then, what are you doing here if you're just going to give up? What happened to your grand disgusting dream of spending the rest of your days with that insufferable arrancar?"

Ichigo opened his mouth to protest but instead sucked in a thick current of the obsidian sea, burning his throat and causing his stomach to wretch in discomfort as he choked. Instead of soothing him the voice continued it's mocking banter, "Oh yes, that's right, you can't answer me in here. All of your reiatsu is gone, so now your feeble human soul is being suffocated by mine. If I wasn't being fed so gluttonously by your little boyfriend I'd actually consider consuming you, as much of an appetizer as you'd be, but sadly I'm being goaded into helping you by the ridiculous kidou that that disgusting blond excuse for a shinigami binded that sword with," The figured stepped out of the shadows and Ichigo's eyes went wide at the familiar mirror image that stared him down with cynical golden eyes, "Now, King, can we get onto the main event?"

His inner hollow moved forward though the haze of dark waters almost effortlessly, wrapping his hand around Ichigo's thin throat and heaving him into the air, "In order for you to survive this whole ordeal, for once you need to trust me. If you plan on resurrecting and actually acquiring any sort of powers, we must become one in mind, body, and soul. No more of that tug of war from before. I will no longer be the horse that carries you but instead the crown atop your head and the sword that hangs at your waist. I will be your identity and your power and you will house me inside of you not as a parasite but as part yourself as a whole being. We will no longer be black and white, we will exist to become the gray. Do you understand these terms and are you willing to still do this even after all I have said?" 

Ichigo's mind was a swimming current of confusion. He'd never been able to see eye to eye with the hollow that took residence within him as a stain on his shinigami soul, but as he'd listened to the ivory reflection of himself speak, he'd realized that through all the time they'd been connected they'd never once taken the chance to conjure up a treaty such as the one that was presented before him. Maybe it was Grimmjow's reiatsu that now surged through his weakened veins as an incentive, or maybe it was just his overwhelming desire to feel something again, just as he had when he was full of unwavering potential and power. He longed to feel unstoppable again. He longed to feel the cool breeze against his face again, wanting to bask in it instead of shun away from the feeling. Most of all, he longed to be with Grimmjow on an equal level, already sick of being the depressed little human that he'd had to take care of. He missed the days when they'd stood evenly matched on the battlefield, even if the blood lust that had consumed them then was all but replaced by an overwhelming and raw need to be with each other not as enemies, but as lovers. 

When sandy eyes met the clash of black and yellow, he slowly nodded, sealing his fate and his future with Grimmjow in one sure and swift movement. Before he could even think upon the grand decision he had just made, a hand as white as snow reached into his chest and soon the pale body attached followed, their biology melding together as they hastily became one breathing being. For a second he felt his body become alight with foreign sensations, new cravings and knowledge assaulting his senses as he finished melding with the hollow that had plagued him for years. He reached his hand out and surveyed the similar ivory skin color he was drenched in, ready to react and test out his powers before a voice called to him once more. This time it wasn't sardonic and arrogant, but worried and warm. He knew it instantly and fervently swam toward it without hesitation.

"Kurosaki!" It pleaded, the garbled voice pulling him further and further from the depths of this ocean of despair, "Kisuke, it's not fucking working!"

He knew that he didn't have much time, the water getting thicker and thicker as he reached the turbid surface. Summoning all his strength he pushed against the rough current and tried desperately to grasp onto the blue glow that danced across the water's edge. He'd get back to Grimmjow, not matter what it took. He'd already made up his mind.  

 _So tell me your secrets_  
_And join me in pieces_  
_To fall and rewrite the bitter end_

In an explosion of blue heat, he finally found himself staring back up at the faux sky of Kisuke's training bunker. He was groggy, every muscle in his changed body now creaking and aching under the pressure of his newly returned reiatsu. He didn't have even a moment to express his discomfort before he was being violently yanked by the collar of his bunched up shirt to meet exasperated oceanic eyes.

"What the actual fuck Ichigo?!" Grimmjow yowled, tightening his grip on the ginger's blood soaked shirt. Ichigo bristled momentarily, the use of his name pretty unfamiliar territory between the two, but healing nonetheless as it passed through scowling lips. "You scared the everlivin' shit out of me! I thought you were just fuckin' dead! What took you so long to get back?!"

The onslaught of questions being inconsiderately shouted at his face had him frowning back at the face in front of him. "Would you  _pipe down_? For fucks sake Grimm," His voice was raspy, the strain of choking on the tar-like substance still affecting him as he came to, "I had to talk with my inner hollow, and  _that_  only happened after I sunk to the bottom of some shady black syrup that I almost  _drowned in_. I think I've literally been to hell and back and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't scream in my god damn face like a maniac,"

He'd expected his harsh tone to earn him at least a flick to the forehead or a slap upside the head, but what he'd gotten instead was a wolfish grin that practically split the espada's face in two. Ready to dispute the opposite reaction, he was silenced as he was being pulled forward into a what he could only imagine was going to be a rough kiss. Before their lips could even touch though, Grimmjow pulled back with a startled yelp, rubbing a paper thin gauge on his temple that oozed dark crimson.

"Fuck," He growled, wiping the blood off of his cheek as it continued to soak his skin, "Out of all hollow masks you could've gotten, you just had to have Satan's fucking skewers growing out of your head,"

Not at all digesting what Grimmjow had just said, he couldn't help the witty comeback that spilled past his lips, "Shut up jawbone, at least I don't have extra razor teeth for no reason. Your dentist must _really_  hate you,"

The incredulous look that the arrancar shot his way almost made him laugh aloud. After almost 2 years rotting inside a cacophony of self hatred that screamed inside his skull, it was nice to finally joke with the blue-haired nightmare. It was almost nostalgic, the feeling making him softly smile at the other in a haze of remembrance.

"I hate to break up the touching reunion," Kisuke started, "But would you like to see yourself Ichigo? Your look has changed quite a bit from your former human form," 

Before an answer could slip past his parted lips, he was handed a small mirror, almost dropping it when glowing gold irises started back at him. His former cinnamon eyes were now a sea of black and flecks of gold, his skin now a sickly ivory instead of the sun-kissed hue he'd donned through adolescence. Two black estigmas painted down over his left eye and above, one even dipping down below his collar as it trailed the expanse of his snowy skin. The biggest difference though had to have been the two long horns that jutted through his long orange hair, pointed and demonic, one already painted with the blood of another. Despite his original fears about donning the body of an arrancar, he actually quite liked it. It would sure take a bit of getting used to, and perhaps it would take some careful maneuvering to be intimate once more, but so far he was happy he'd made the choice to become the species of his lover. There's no look he'd rather don more than one that he could match that of the one he cared so much for, compared to the obvious clash his shinigami form would wedge between them.

Breaking his train of thought, Grimmjow ducked under Ichigo's new horns and pushed him back against the graveled floor, not wasting a second assaulting his lips. There was a slight sting emanating from his bottom lip and when he tasted the flood of iron on his tongue he remembered biting clean through it when the espada's sword had first pierced his skin. The arrancar's hand reached out directly next to their tangled limbs, and upon hearing the screech of a garganta ripping through the atmosphere beside him, he pulled back, panting and breathless.

There was sanguine smeared across Grimmjow's lips, the sight igniting a fire that coiled deep within his stomach. Smirking down at him, the same ruby hue adorning his jagged teeth, he grasped Ichigo tightly and spoke as close to his lips as he could without rejoining them. "You ready for forever? No going back now," The words were almost spoken sensually, erupting a ripple of goosebumps across Ichigo's pale skin, "Wanna blow this popsicle stand? Maybe come home with me for a change?"

Without a beat Ichigo nodded, feeling the aroused heat of his face and cursing his newly snow white skin for the triumphant look on Grimmjow's face. Before he could even exhale another breath, he found himself engulfed in darkness as the garganta closed behind them, his still frail form being held protectively against the armor plates of Grimmjow's resurrección as he drew them closer and closer to Hueco Mundo with each sonido. Despite knowing the ashen, barren desert of the dead was all the awaited them once they arrived, Ichigo couldn't help but feel an overwhelming surge of belonging euphoria as he pressed himself closer to the espada he'd fallen deeply in love with. This was truly the start of the rest of his life. 

_I'm more than willing to rot in hell with you_

Years had passed among the dunes of Hueco Mundo as two smears of blue and orange lay in the middle of nothingness, far far away from Nelliel and Harribel for the first time in a few weeks. Though the two girls had quickly become two of Ichigo's closest friends, Grimmjow's possessive feline nature craved to have him to himself for at least  _one_  night.

"I get so sick of those two women monopolizing you," The espada growled in weak hatred, "What do you guys even do together? Sit and braid each other's fucking hair or some shit?"

Ichigo laughed, casting his teal lover an incredulous look, "Yeah, as if I'm going to let those two crazy amazons touch my hair. Get real, you know you're the only one I let touch it," 

Grimmjow let out a breathy chuckle, "Good," He was laying on his side now, facing the sharp black stripes on the ginger's face head on, "Do you ever regret deciding to stay here with me? I don't mean to sound sappy and shit but it's a fucking barren wasteland here. We don't have shops or amusement parks or any of the shit the human world has, so why do you even want to be here?"

Ichigo didn't miss a beat, "You're forgetting something idiot. There's one thing Hueco Mundo has that the human world doesn't," He turned his head this time, letting gold meet aqua in a gaze so soft he could already feel the blue-haired male's discomfort towards the affectionate action. "You. And before you dispute it and argue with me until we're both beaten and bleeding in the sand, I chose you over all the shit that the human world could offer me of _my own volition._  Faced with the choice again I'd do the same over and over. You're my goal Grimm. My be all end all, and no amount of you casting doubt in me will ever make me question how I feel about you, no matter how insecure you are,"  

Grimmjow's obnoxious scoff had Ichigo laughing at his stubborn expression. "I'm not insecure, you ignorant fuck. Whether you realize it or not, I'm not some cold-hearted monster. I have a fucking conscience, that's all. I ripped you from your annoying ass family, of course I'd fucking drill you for choosing some undead asshole over your own kin,"

Ichigo's giggles died down and he found himself scooting closer to the blue-haired menace and wrapping his arms around his warm frame. "I never thought you were some cold-hearted monster you ass, you seem to keep forgetting we're the same species. And who ever said you ripped me from my family? You're a sad excuse for a cat-burgler if you think that you stole someone who came willingly,"

Grimmjow couldn't help but laugh through his nose, "Kurosaki if that was a fucking pun I'm going to rip your arm off and beat you with it,"

Springing from the sand faster than the espada could blink, Ichigo flipped him the bird and stuck out his tongue, "You're gonna have to catch me first,  _pussy_ ," 

Sitting up with a look of pure murderous intent on his face, Grimmjow grinned that jagged pirate smile he wore so well, "You're on  _demon boy_ ," And then they were off in a spur of sonidos across the ashen sand.

Ichigo was grateful for all the years he'd spent so far with his hot-headed arrancar. The rain clouds that hung over him had finally cleared into clear skies and the depression that assaulted him relentlessly for the entirety of the end of his teenage life had finally vanished as he was filled with the unique brand of love Grimmjow had given him. He found the course of his future alight with a new purpose, and even if that meant seeing his human and shinigami friends only every so often, he couldn't help but be the happiest he'd ever been in his entire life. Who'd have thought that it would've taken Grimmjow Jeagerjaques to turn Ichigo's life into the perfect scene it was meant to be? He'd have to be sure to thank Kisuke next time he saw him. Without him Ichigo would inevitably have ended his life eons ago.

Smiling, Ichigo sped up as he felt the familiar flicker of azure reiatsu behind him. Yeah, he was never going to get used to being this happy. 

_Eternally yours_


End file.
